


Afraid of the Dark

by webecamefriendsbymistake (mvsicbookfrxndom)



Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Bad English, Bad Flirting, Bad Jokes, Champions League, Denial of Feelings, English Premier League, FIFA World Cup, FIFA World Cup 2014, FIFA World Cup 2018, Falling In Love, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Football, Football | Soccer, Friends to Lovers, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Real Events, Liverpool F.C., Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining, Realistic, Slow Burn, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, Why Did I Write This?, World Cup
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 04:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15210755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvsicbookfrxndom/pseuds/webecamefriendsbymistake
Summary: in which a certain passionate defender goes through one crazy, unimaginable football season, and falls in love in the process.hehe





	Afraid of the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, fellow Liverpool fans! (At least, I'm assuming you're Liverpool fans?) Whatever club you support, thanks a billion for clicking on this fic! I just want to clear some stuff up before we get to the story itself.
> 
> This is a story that begins in late June of 2017 and continues on into the present day, as far forward in time and up-to-date as I can manage. I am not sure where it will end, but it will end after World Cup season for sure.
> 
> I wrote this in as realistic of a timeline for the 2017-2018 season as I could manage, after doing tons of research - TONS - to make up for the fact that I am writing an RPF. Please comment about any errors in games, game scores, rosters, etc. that I have included. I also want to include realism in the players' personalities and everyday lives, so if anything is glaringly OOC, let me know! For example, I found out (through my intensely in-depth research) that Lovren is a superfan of 50 Cent, so of course I am going to milk that fact for all it is worth in the due process of this story.
> 
> Important disclaimer: this story not only deals with Dejo's internal battles about falling in love with Mo, but also his conflict with himself about being attracted to men. This aspect of the fic is based off of my own thoughts and experiences before coming to terms with myself. I hope it does not come off as homophobic or insensitive, because trust me, he's going to accept himself eventually ;)
> 
> I put a lot of effort into this story, and every single word means something. It isn't beta-d, so comment if anything doesn't flow. Any feedback is much appreciated!!!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

36.9 million pounds. That was the amount of money that Coach Jürgen Klopp bought Mohamed Salah from Roma for in June of 2017 ― the largest amount ever paid by Liverpool for a transfer.

The squad didn’t know all that much about the new transfer before we met him. We had seen a few videos of his former games with Chelsea and Roma, noting his impressive speed and spurts of brilliance that allowed him to make big plays on the pitch. However, I couldn’t help but feel that his rather lacking run at Chelsea was an omen that he just wasn’t truly meant to play for the Premier League, much less the Champions League. I didn’t want to seem cynical, especially since the quality of my own game was so inconsistent, a fact I hated to admit to myself. It wasn’t like we were completely made of free time either, and we were stuck in the rut of pre-preseason laziness and summer vacation, so most (if not all) of us simply didn’t bother to do our due research.

Either way, we couldn’t help but feel excited to have an addition to our little group, our mini family. Klopp’s confidence in the growth factor of the transfer ― he told us that Salah had an infinite capacity to improve himself, which was an unexpected compliment  _ (why did Klopp compliment this stranger when he’d only shout angry expletives at us no matter how well we did in a game or practice? What did he do to earn this kind of praise? I’d have to ask him when he arrived from Italy) _ ― was as contagious as a yawn, and soon us veterans were just as pumped as he was to help Salah achieve this goal of improvement. We also, of course, wanted to see if he could lift us from our recent slump.

Perhaps this mysterious new transfer from Egypt  _ (how exotic!) _ could be the source of motivation that I personally needed to improve and grow in our sport. Wishful thinking? I hoped not, and attributed this strange thought to my almost incessant optimism.

Not to mention, I was in desperate need of a new friend. Adam and Jordan’s team antics had gotten even more insufferable ever since they started dating, and even though it was cute and all, I was kind of jealous of the way they fit together so very well, as if they were born to be together. Not that I would ever want to date another man, but their love for each other transcended gender in a way that opened my eyes and helped me see the world from perspectives I had never even considered before. I didn’t really consider, in the past, how tender two lovers could be towards each other if they were both men. Not to mention how they spent all the free time they got with each other, leaving absolutely no room for anybody else, not even Milly. Besides, going along with friendship, Salah’s smile seemed friendly enough from all the press release pictures I had seen of him.

It was a typical laidback late-June day in Melwood, and we were doing light cut-backs on the warmup field ― not quite training, we weren’t at that point in the pre-season yet ― when the door opened and in walked Salah, alongside Alan, our grounds manager. We all stood there like idiots, staring over at the two of them in surprise. We were given no warning or heads-up about this. Then again, we probably would have been more surprised if Klopp had mentioned that he’d be joining us today, rather than leaving us in the dark like he always does except when there are new plays to be taught and taken to the real games.

Adam was the first to break the silence, which was getting more awkward by the millisecond. “Oi, Klopp,” he called, gesturing to the bare top half of his body, “next time let me know when we have new visitors so I won’t be so indecently exposed in front of them, would ya?”

Instantly the tense atmosphere was gloriously shattered. We all snickered, and in that moment, I mentally vowed never to mock Adam on his ridiculous sense of humor again, although I suppose it is ironic that I ever would in the first place, given that I share that trait with him. Kloppo rolled his eyes, walking past us to get to Salah. “Oi, Lallana,” he mocked, smirking, “next time you refer to me so disrespectfully, I’ll make sure to spill the beans to the team on what I found in your locker yesterday.”

Adam’s face turned almost comically pale, and immediately Hendo was at his side, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder, as if he was worried that his newly-pale beau would topple to the floor without physical support. “Noted, Coach.” Then, as if hit by a revelation, his eyes widened. “Wait, how did you open my locker? Only I know the combination!”

I heard Hendo ask softly under his breath if Adam was fine and what on earth they were talking about, but I didn’t get to hear his answer because Klopp had spoken again. It was as if I was a well-trained dog immediately in tune to Klopp’s voice, because right when he opened his mouth, I subconsciously started blocking all other sounds from my scope of attention. I struggled to hear his voice as it faded the further he walked in the opposite direction, towards the door. “Take a breather, I’m only joking around. Maybe. You left it open and how could I resist? That’ll show you to stop being negligent! It’s a lesson you can take onto the field! How’ve you been, Mo? Good to see you! These clods are something else, aren’t they?”

From a distance, I saw them shake hands with a shy-looking smile from Salah, his eyes flitting about, scanning our faces. “It is good to see you too. I suppose they are something else, but I don’t think I have a right to say they are clods.” He laughed jovially after saying that, peering out at us, and I couldn’t help but grin too. He was a very good-looking man, and his smile absolutely lit up his face; it was even more radiant than in the photos, almost blinding, even with the distance between us.

Kloppo then turned to Alan, greeting him warmly. Alan offered an apology, telling the coach he was in a hurry for a meeting, and Klopp sent him off with an “as if I’d let you stick around anyway!” He smiled before walking out with a final wave behind him.

Turning back to Salah, Klopp gently coaxed him to walk over to where the rest of us were milling about, watching their interactions. I couldn’t be sure of what any of the others were thinking, but I had a feeling that they would be studying his body language and form just like me, both curious and wary of the unexpected arrival. At this point, we had abandoned the idea of practice altogether and stood stationary, waiting to be introduced to our new teammate, rearranging ourselves into a convenient line almost by impulse.

When the two of them finally got to us, Salah no less than scampered over, hand eagerly outstretched to Sadio. “Hello. It is nice to meet you. I am honoured to call you my teammate.” His English was carefully enunciated and charmingly accented, not enough to be unintelligible, but unmistakably the accent was there. The odd thought struck me that it was the perfect addition to complement his facial features ― the dark, curly hair; the deep brown eyes; the full lips and even fuller smile that graced his expression at the moment.  _ Charming. _

“Oh, come on now, no need for such formal introductions. We’re all skivers here,” Kloppo laughed, playfully slapping Salah on the shoulder. “We’re a family. You could tell them to bugger off and they’d still love you. It’s hard not to.” Sadio nodded in agreement as they shook hands.

A slight red tinge snuck up Salah’s neck and dusted his cheeks, but he didn’t stop smiling. If anything, his smile got even wider. “Thank you, sir. I want to make sure you do not regret this decision. There is a lot expected of me, and I know I can deliver.” As he spoke, he went down the line, shaking each hand firmly. As I looked around, I could see that his magnetic smile was quickly catching on to the rest of us ― light, happy, relaxed.

“I’ll hold you to that promise.” Even Klopp seemed uncharacteristically casual and friendly. Was Salah’s smile a magical entity? How else could this be possible so easily? At the back of my mind, I noted that Salah had not promised anything, but Klopp had turned his impassioned statement into just that. Pretty clever, if you asked me.

Finally, he reached me. “Nice to meet you, mate,” I said to him, meeting his eyes. They were so deep, dark yet bright and lively, almost bursting with mirth. I felt my throat dry up a little bit ― clearly I hadn’t drunk enough water following our abrupt cessation of ‘practice’ ― and the next words did not leave my lips without some labour. “Look forward to play alongside you.”  _ And see just how good you are on the field, just how much you can improve, just how well you’ll keep that ‘promise’ you inadvertently made to Kloppo just there. _

His smile again widened as he gripped my hand tight. “Thank you, thank you. Likewise.” His was warm, the tips of his fingers slightly calloused, his palms soft. And with a final squeeze of my hand, he was off to the next player.

In hindsight, I should have seen the sense of loss I felt when he let go of my hand as foreshadowing of what was to come, shouldn’t I have? How much I noticed about him the very first time I saw him in person? His hands, his body, his face? His smile?

**Author's Note:**

> WHELP. There you go - the first chapter. More coming up very very soon! What do you think of it so far?
> 
> Also, drop a comment or inbox message me about the World Cup - I am immensely proud of the semis, I love all four teams!! But I'm rooting for Croatia to take it all, for obvious reasons! Let me know what you think :)))
> 
> Edit: whelp. The World Cup is over and even though France took it all, I could not be prouder of Dejan and the rest of the Croatian team for stealing my heart, sanity, and asexuality! Just kidding...or am I kidding???
> 
> ANYWAYS, my pseud comes from the brilliant quote from [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mkw8VS67U8Y) video which is literally my favorite video on the entire site of YouTube and lowkey highkey the reason I started hardcore shipping this beautiful ship, so I recommend you watch it.
> 
> Hit up my [tumblr](http://mvsicbookfrxndom.tumblr.com/) too! I love talking about my fandoms and trust me, there is no lack of fandom shit on that thing!


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